


see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

by asimplefavor



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimplefavor/pseuds/asimplefavor
Summary: The times Beca finds herself in Chloe's bed and one time she finds herself in her own.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 42
Kudos: 230





	see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iPhone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/gifts).



> For [Theresa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone)  
> Thank you for always being my biggest supporter (and the best beta pal), this wouldn’t exist without you.

_One_.

The first time it happens is an accident.

Beca is over at Chloe and Aubrey’s shared apartment, comfortably sprawled across Chloe’s bed as she and Chloe do homework.

It is Beca’s first year at Barden. It is Beca’s first year and she really didn’t anticipate building a lasting friendship with anyone—didn’t even anticipate staying longer than two _months_ , really.

Then again, her life never really seemed to go as planned.

(Maybe she should just stop making them.)

Five months later, post-intervention—if she can even call it that, it feels more like her father controlling her every move, but _whatever_ —she finds herself immensely enjoying the company of her redheaded friend.

Maybe a bit more than she should.

Five months later, Beca has grown quite the friendship with Chloe Beale. Beca now has about five months of ‘study hangouts’—Chloe’s words, not hers—where Beca spends most of her time, productively or unproductively, staring at Chloe. And also occasionally pretending to read her textbook.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to die,” Beca whines. She makes a point to drop her head onto her textbook dramatically.

“Bec, we’ve only been doing this for an hour, you’ll live.” Chloe laughs breathily as she turns to face Beca fully before she pokes Beca in her side.

Beca immediately lets out a squeal and she rolls away from Chloe to avoid any further tickling that may ensue. She finds it terrifying just how much she likes Chloe; how at ease she is around her; how easy it is for her to be herself and not worry about any judgement. She more than often wonders why her feelings towards Chloe feel so different compared to the feelings she has towards the other Bellas.

Obviously, she chooses to ignore it.

“Let’s watch a movie instead,” Beca grumbles.

“You hate movies.”

“Exactly.”

Beca likes Chloe’s company. She likes the way Chloe laughs at her jokes; the way Chloe sings softly to fill the silences; the way Chloe cuddles close to Beca whenever she gives into Beca's light pestering and agrees to start another Netflix series together— _as long as Beca can keep focussed for thirty more minutes._

Beca considers Chloe her best friend. Her closest friend. That’s why she’s not particularly bothered when she wakes the next morning to Chloe’s soft singing as she sits at her desk.

“When did I fall asleep?” Beca asks, clearing her throat when she hears how hoarse her voice sounds.

“Around eleven. You were too cute, I just couldn’t wake you up. Hope that’s okay.”

For the first time, Beca doesn’t have anything to say. No rebuttal comes to mind. Nothing at the tip of her tongue. Just Chloe’s smile and the warmth of the morning all around them.

Chloe’s smile feels warmer than the sunshine that cascades through her open blinds. Beca simply smiles back, and leans against the pillows, enjoying the view of her pretty best friend in the morning light.

Thinking back, Beca realizes this was her first mistake.

* * * * *

_Two._

The second time happens a few months into Beca’s second year.

They live in the same house now, which really only gives Beca less of a reason to end up in Chloe’s bed at all kinds of ungodly hours in the night. And yet...here she is, crying into Chloe’s shoulder over something her boyfriend—her boyfriend!—had told her earlier that same evening.

_“Sometimes I just don’t understand how you can be so cold and emotionless, Beca. It makes it so hard to want to love you.”_

“Do you think I’m cold?” She barely recognizes her own voice as she chokes back a new onset of tears. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and adjusts herself to fit snugly against Chloe’s side.

Chloe’s response is instantaneous. “No, Bec,” Chloe whispers into her hair. She presses a chaste kiss to her forehead as she rubs her back soothingly. “I think you're one of the most caring people I know.”

Beca wants to believe her. She wants to believe that she’s worth more than Jesse makes her feel, that she’s a good person and worthy of love. She wants to be loved, and with increasing frequency, she finds herself wanting to be loved by _Chloe_. It's a thought that makes her stomach flip with butterflies and anxiety. She feels guilty every time it crosses her mind.

“But if it's not true, why would he say it?”

Chloe’s hand combs through her hair. Beca takes peace in the feeling of Chloe’s loving touch, and the steady rhythm of Chloe’s heartbeat under her cheek. They stay like that for a long moment, but it still ends far too soon.

Chloe finally sighs. “He’s just being an asshole, Beca. Don’t listen to him.” She says it with such certainty, slightly tightening her grip around Beca’s body, as if to protect her from everything in the outside world.

Beca shifts her body once again, tilting her chin up to look at Chloe’s face. It’s dark, and she has difficulty making out Chloe’s features—she finds herself wanting to reach out and trace Chloe’s jawline, wanting to kiss her. It's a dangerous thought to have.

 _I think I love you._ Is what she wants to say.

“I think I love him,” is what comes out instead.

“I know.”

Beca wonders if the tinge of sadness she hears in Chloe’s voice is real, or it's simply a product of her imagination—a longing for something she only wishes she could have.

Instead she has Jesse. Jesse who tells her that he loves her, Jesse who she loves back. It's easy that way, comfortable.

At least that's what she tells herself as she lays in Chloe’s arms, pretending she doesn't enjoy this feeling more than when her boyfriend tries to so much as hug her.

It definitely doesn't mean anything. That's what she’ll tell herself over, and over again until maybe one day she’ll believe it.

“Chloe? Can I—I don't want to be alone,” Beca mumbles, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks.

“You don’t need to ask, Bec. Ever.”

When Beca wakes, she can tell it's still early by the silence of the Bella house, and the sun that peeks through Chloe’s blinds. It shines upon them in tiny rays, and Beca embraces the warmth—she pushes back the thought of how it reminds her of Chloe—and snuggles back into Chloe’s arms, letting her slow and paced breathing lull her back to sleep.

* * * * *

_Three._

It’s become somewhat of a habit, really—Beca ending up in Chloe’s bed. Time after time again, Beca finds herself snuggled up against Chloe Beale, her best friend, and ends up falling asleep feeling warm and safe in Chloe’s embrace. It usually makes her next day go by easier, makes her happier.

Except this time.

Beca’s drunk. _Really drunk._

If she was smart, she would’ve done a self assessment before making her way across the Bella house, but she’s not, and that’s why she’s now standing in the doorway of Chloe’s bedroom.

“Chloe,” Beca whispers through the darkness. No response. “ _Chloe,_ ” she calls out, just a bit louder—and by a bit, she’s almost certain she’s raised her voice by _several_ decibels. Oops.

“Beca, it’s almost...it’s three in the morning.” She can hear Chloe’s groggy voice travel across the bedroom. She stays in the doorway, swaying back and forth slightly as she processes the hour of the night.

“I know,” she lies, smirking to herself. She can hear Chloe sigh from the bed, not making any effort at all in meeting Beca halfway.

“You okay?” Beca nods in response, momentarily forgetting just how dark Chloe’s room is, dark enough that Chloe definitely can’t see her response.

After another beat of silence, Beca decides she’s had enough small talk. She invites herself into Chloe’s room, immediately flopping herself onto the bed next to Chloe and letting out a hum in content.

She is pleasantly buzzed. All the alcohol she drank by herself in her bedroom is now pleasantly warming her body, ridding it of the numbness and sadness she had been feeling prior. Beca thinks she could easily fall asleep like this: completely blissed out and comfortable, and next to her favourite human in the world. She sighs again, nuzzling her face into Chloe’s pillow and inhaling her scent.

“Comfortable?” Chloe asks, amusement present in her voice. Beca nods and lets out a giggle and flips onto her back, turning her head to face Chloe.

“You’re so pretty,” Beca whispers. She doesn’t mean to say it aloud; she doesn’t even really know that she did whisper it until a smile grows upon Chloe’s face. She can’t quite seem to stop talking, however. “Yup. Very pretty.” Chloe lets out a quiet laugh in response, one that sends tingles down Beca’s spine, one that makes Beca want to grab her face and kiss her with everything she has. Perhaps talking is safer. “I like sleeping with you,” Beca lets out a hiccup. “You’re—you make me feel safe. And you smell good.”

“Okay, drunky.” Chloe’s voice is soft. Beca can feel how close in proximity they are by the way Chloe’s breath ghosts over her lips. “What’s with the compliments tonight? You’ve gone soft, where’d my Beca go?”

Beca reaches out and brushes a stray curl behind Chloe’s ear. She tries to focus on Chloe’s words, but she can’t help but get distracted by the way Chloe’s eyes glow in the moonlight. She looks ethereal.

“Earth to Beca,” Beca snaps out of her daze as Chloe waves a hand in front of her face teasingly. “Where’d you go just then?”

“I love you.” Beca slurs, repeating it again to make sure Chloe completely understands her words. And for extra clarification: “I’m _in love_ with you.”

“Beca—” Beca notices the panic on Chloe’s face immediately. She doesn’t like it, and it makes her want to cry.

“I’m not drunk.” _Hiccup._ “I’m a little bit drunk.”

“Beca—” Chloe tries again, sitting up and adding distance between them. Beca begins to panic.

“No, no—Chlo, listen, _please_ —” Beca tries, reaching out in an attempt to grab Chloe’s hand. She tries not to let it show on her face just how much it hurts when Chloe moves it away.

“ _Beca_ —you’re not in love with me, you love Jesse.” Chloe states plainly and easily, as if it’s been rehearsed in her head thousands of times.

“We broke up. That’s why I’m drunk.”

“No, Beca. _No_. You’re not doing this, this isn’t fair. You’re drunk, and you’re going to get back with him again next week. Maybe sooner.” Chloe sighs exasperatedly. “You’re not in love with me.” Beca feels tears spring to her eyes as she watches Chloe attempt to maintain her composure—and quiet volume—in front of her. She feels a pit in her stomach, one of heartbreak and guilt—heartbreak for herself, and guilt for putting Chloe in a position that’s making her visibly uncomfortable, one she hopes won’t ruin their friendship.

“I’m sorry,” Beca cries out, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. She doesn’t even bother to wipe them away. “Please don’t hate me.”

Chloe’s arms immediately engulf her in a tight hug, her voice whispering soothingly into her ear. “You’re okay,” is what she says. Soothingly. Comfortingly.

Beca _should_ believe Chloe. But she doesn’t. Beca doesn’t feel okay. She feels stupid, feels sad. She lets Jesse’s comments about her being selfish and lackluster seep back into her mind—maybe he was right after all, maybe she is unlovable.

“Let’s just sleep, Bec. You must be exhausted.” Chloe then lays them down gently, continuing to cradle Beca in her arms as she settles them comfortably against the mattress. Beca wishes she didn’t feel so claustrophobic, but she makes no attempt to move.

For once, she doesn’t sleep well in Chloe’s embrace.

And for once, Chloe isn’t there when she wakes up.

* * * * *

_Four._

Beca is either a genius, or a complete idiot—people may differ in opinion.

“Come to New York with me,” she had asked Chloe one day in the fall following their graduation.

“Okay,” Chloe had replied.

Maybe Beca should’ve questioned why it took no hesitation for Chloe to say yes.

It had started off fairly well, a bed on each side of their shared apartment, a bed for each of them—aka no need to sleep in Chloe’s arms anymore.

It all worked out fine.

That _was_ until Amy came to visit.

Three months ago.

Amy, who had originally planned to stay _three_ days, is still sleeping in Beca’s bed three _months_ later. Beca thinks this is the universe’s way of laughing at her.

_“I need her gone.” Beca groans, shoving her face into her pillow._

_“What, do you not like sleeping next to me? I’m hurt, Bec.” Beca thinks it’s hilarious, just how much Chloe tortures her unintentionally. She groans again before hitting Chloe with a pillow._

_Fuck her life._

“She’s snoring. Again.” Beca whispers loudly, not really caring if Amy hears her at this point.

Yet another week has gone by where Amy has made an excuse to why she hasn’t left yet. Thus, another week that Beca has to put up with her overly loud snoring—and ‘put up’ with sleeping next to Chloe, who’s close proximity makes her brain short circuit.

She’s starting to think that Amy’s never going to leave.

“And your feet are cold.” Chloe flips herself over to face her, in turn dislodging Beca’s foot from her bare leg. “Go to sleep.”

“Dude, how am I supposed to sleep, she’s going to rupture my eardrums.”

“ _Dude_ , you fall asleep with music on literally all the time.” Beca can sense the amusement in Chloe’s voice, and see the faint smile that’s breaking out on her face through the darkness. She knows that although Chloe’s laughing at Beca’s dramatics, she’s still just as annoyed with Amy’s neverending presence, _and lack of rent money_.

“I’m offended that you think my music taste is as bad as this.”

“Sleep, Beca. C’mere,” Chloe whispers, pulling into a side embrace.

Another thing Beca needs to get used to is mornings with Amy.

“OH, MY GOD!” Beca thinks she almost rolls off the bed as she wakes from panicked screaming.

“Dude, what the—”

“Were you having sex?” Amy hisses. Beca can hear Chloe trying to contain her laughter, Beca refuses to look at her. Her roommates are annoying.

“Amy, wha—no, what the fuck, dude?” Beca takes a quick glance at the clock on her bedside table and notes that it’s well before eight, she’s—if possible—even less impressed than before. “You know, I think today you should maybe try and get a job.” Beca says pointedly, giving Amy a slight glare.

“Beca, you’re exhausted, I think you should go back to sleep.” _Sigh._

Beca kinda hates her life.

* * * * *

_Four and a half._

Okay. Beca’s _fucked_.

They have just passed the one-year anniversary of Amy’s accidental move in, aka Beca has been sleeping with Chloe, as in literal sleeping, not having sex—because Beca hasn’t been laid in more months than she can count, and _that’s_ also driving her insane—for _over a year_.

Oh. Beca is fairly certain she’s a lesbian. So there’s that.

Oh, and _yeah_ , she’s most definitely _still_ in love with Chloe Beale.

She’s _super_ fucked.

She sits in the middle of her and Chloe’s shared bed, and wrings her hands over and over again, taking a glance at the clock on her phone every thirty seconds.

“If she’s lucky, she won’t be coming home tonight, and neither will I. Bye!” Amy tosses Beca a half wave before she makes her way through the door to meet whatever rendez-vous she has planned for the night.

Beca feels sick.

It’s not that she doesn’t want Chloe’s date to go well, it’s the first one she’s had in months, and she seemed genuinely excited—it filled Beca with jealous rage—and Beca just wants Chloe to be happy.

At least that’s what she tells herself. She ignores the part of her brain that says _‘you want her to be happy with_ you.’

Okay, so she’s a little bit selfish.

Beca just doesn’t find it fair that she’s the one who’s gotten to appreciate the way Chloe likes to cuddle when she’s tired, the way she smiles in her sleep, her soft hums as she scrolls through her phone in the mornings…

Beca doesn’t find it fair that she might have to share, or worse, give it all away to someone else. (She also knows Chloe doesn’t owe her any of it, and that knowledge hurts more than she’d like to admit.)

She debates texting Chloe, a simple ‘ _hey, how’s your date going?_ ’ Or a slightly less subtle ‘ _are you going to be home tonight because I find that I can’t sleep without you by my side._ ’ She doesn’t end up sending anything—probably for the best.

Instead, she presses her palms to her eyes to attempt to hold back her tears. It doesn’t end up helping, and they quickly begin to fall down her cheeks, almost tauntingly so.

Chloe arrives home around eight-thirty, and Beca doesn’t even have time to register any emotion on her face that might point to how her date went, before she throws herself onto the bed, and wraps her arm around Beca’s middle.

“Mm, I missed you.” Chloe sighs, tucking her head against Beca’s shoulder.

Beca has to stop herself from blurting ‘ _I’m so glad you’re home and not with him,_ ’ and instead, she asks Chloe how her date went. As nonchalantly as possible, of course. As a typical friend would—one who isn’t in love with the woman whose fingers are now dipping under loose shorts, and swirling circles along Beca’s bare hipbone. Beca has to force herself to breathe steadily.

Chloe’s delayed response and instant freeze-up at the question sends Beca’s brain into overdrive. Chloe mumbles an “it was good,” and attempts to change the subject as if Beca hadn’t even asked the question in the first place. That immediately gives Beca red flags.

“Was he not nice to you?” she questions, sitting up a bit straighter, and wrapping her arm around Chloe’s body to keep her comfortably flush against her.

“What—no, no, he was great. I’m just tired.” Chloe forces a yawn, and turns herself onto her back, staring emotionless at the ceiling.

“Chloe—”

“He asked me if I wanted to go back to his apartment with him.” Beca feels her heart stop. She can’t lie and say it hadn’t been something that had been swirling around her head for the past few hours, however hearing Chloe say them aloud, hearing Chloe admit to what might’ve happened that night if she had’ve gone with him, it makes Beca’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you go?” Beca asks, half prying, half trying to engage in a conversation that she deems ‘best friend behaviour.’

She feels guilty asking the question when Chloe immediately gets up and heads to their kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water.

“Chlo, I’m sorry, I—”

“Beca, if I ask you a question will you tell me the truth?” Beca stares ahead, a sense of nervousness creeping through her body as she gives Chloe a small nod. “Do you still love me?” Chloe whispers, briefly making eye contact with Beca before ducking her head away.

Beca can practically feel her brain turning, she thinks she may be in shock as she tries to process Chloe’s question. _‘Do you still love me?’_ Beca wants to scream ‘ _fuck, yes. I’ve never stopped loving you,_ ’ but the world seems frozen, and she can’t quite figure out how to connect her brain to her mouth.

Instead she mumbles “what?” ad makes herself sound—and look—like a complete idiot. Typical.

To her credit, Chloe tilts her head, offering her a small smile, It is a smile that says ‘ _I know you heard me,_ ’ and ‘ _it’s okay, any answer you give me, it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay._ ’

Beca doesn’t even realize when she begins to cry; she doesn’t even realize that she might be having a panic attack, not until Chloe’s beside her, holding her gently and telling her to breathe as she wipes away Beca’s tears. Beca doesn’t even know how much time has passed, she just knows that she feels so safe in Chloe’s arms, and that she never wants to live a life where she doesn’t get Chloe like this—never wants to live a life without Chloe knowing just how in love with her she is. She feels that Chloe deserves that, at the very least.

“Of course I love you,” Beca sniffles, scoffing as she wipes at the never ending stream tears that stream down her cheeks in mild embarrassment.

“Bec—”

“I’ve never stopped, Chloe, I’ve never stopped being in love with you.” This is one of the hardest conversations Beca thinks she’s ever had, harder than the time her parents told her about their divorce, and significantly harder than her final breakup with Jesse.

Beca feels vulnerable. Bare. She feels completely raw.

But Chloe smiles at her so lovingly. She takes one of Beca’s hands within her own, and squeezes it with love and certainty. Beca can’t look away from Chloe’s lips and she wonders if Chloe wants to kiss her just as badly as she wants to kiss Chloe.

She doesn’t have to wonder for long because Chloe’s lips meet hers in a soft, sweet kiss. Beca feels herself smile against Chloe’s mouth, as she tangles her fingers in Chloe’s hair, pulling her closer.

“I love you, too,” Chloe whispers against her mouth in between kisses.

It’s over from there.

Beca finds that she’s never slept better than a night spent naked in Chloe’s arms. Whispering sweet ‘ _I love you’s_ ’ against Chloe’s bare skin, as Chloe holds her close, is one of the easiest things Beca has ever done.

She thinks she could get used to this.

* * * * *

_Five._

“She had a nightmare,” Beca murmurs, watching as her and Chloe’s almost-four-year-old daughter climbs up onto their bed, and snuggles in next to her wife. Chloe manages to instantly soothe her, and it makes Beca’s heart warm.

Chloe gives her a pointed look, one which echoes a previous conversation the two of them had engaged in, just a few days prior.

_“Bec, she needs to learn that she can’t sleep with us every night.” Chloe sighs, rubbing her temples from the oncoming headache she had been complaining about._

_“But she’s so little and cute!” Chloe gives her a glare, and Beca throws her hands up in surrender, not wanting to be the one kicked out of the bed tonight._

_“She’s little and cute until she starts school in the fall, then we have a preschooler and a baby hogging the bed.” Beca simply smiles in return, reaching out to place her hands on Chloe’s hips and appreciate the ever growing baby bump—one that seems like it’s doubled in growth in just the past week, Beca thinks time goes by way too fast._

_“I know, I just—it’s so hard watching her grow up, part of me just wants her to stay little forever. That’s selfish, I know.”_

_“I get it, babe, it’s hard for me too.” Chloe whispers, leaning in to place a soft kiss to Beca’s lips._

“You know,” Beca teases, giving Zoë a light tickle on her side, “you’re a bit of a bed hog.”

Zoë giggles and tickles Beca back playfully, her mood already improved from when Beca had been called into her bedroom.

“She gets that from you,” Chloe whispers, smoothing down their daughter’s hair, and telling her that it’s time they all get some rest.

Beca simply grins, and tucks herself snug against her small human, now protected by her two mommies, and growing baby brother. She tucks this memory amongst the rest of them that fill her head, feeling so lucky for the life that she gets to live.

“G’night Mommy, night Mama. I love you,” Zoë mumbles sleepily, head already rested against Chloe’s chest, breathing already beginning to settle.

“I love you, too, baby,” Beca answers a few beats later, fully aware that her daughter is most likely already asleep.

“I love you very much.”


End file.
